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THE   WINDOW

Ian like an alphabet from A to Z). Somebody
would teach it—if not he, then another. This
man's strength and sanity, his feeling for straight-
forward simple things, these fishermen, the poor
old crazed creature in Mucklebackit's cottage
made him feel so vigorous, so relieved of some-
thing that he felt roused and triumphant and could
not choke back his tears. Raising the book a
little to hide his face he let them fall and shook
his head from side to side and forgot himself
completely (but not one or two reflections about
morality and French novels and English novels
and Secott's hands being tied but his view perhaps
beingC as true as the other view) forgot his own
bothers and failures completely in poor Steenie's
drc£e ping and Mucklebackit's sorrow (that was
Scott at his best) and the astonishing delight and
feelio ,g of vigour that it gave him.

\V Tell, let them improve upon that, he thought
as hey finished the chapter. He felt that he had
beerh arguing with somebody, and had got the
betUer of him. They could not improve upon
tha tp whatever they might say; and his own
position became more secure. The lovers were
fiddlesticks, he thought, collecting it all in his
mir^id again. That's fiddlesticks, that's first-rate,
he jthought, putting one thing beside another.
Bufy he must read it again. He could not remem-